


Music

by smokeandmirrorscloakanddagger



Series: Bucky/Reader [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adjusting to the future is hard, Anxiety, Anxious Bucky, Avengers Tower, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, F/M, Fluff, Music, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romantic Fluff, Shy Bucky Barnes, what is email, why does everything have so many settings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 18:33:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10471374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeandmirrorscloakanddagger/pseuds/smokeandmirrorscloakanddagger
Summary: Bucky doesn't really understand 'modern' music. The reader is there to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiiii so its my first time writing reader-insert, please let me know how I did! Also, I've hit a bit of writers block where my other fics are concerned and I'm looking to do more small one shots like this or drabbles. So, if you liked this enough to want more, feel free to request something. :) Thanks for reading!

Since moving to the Tower Bucky has become obsessed with teaching himself new things. How to cook, how to play video games, how to text and use email (although that one is apparently on the outs), how to learn to love to draw again, how to stop jittering enough to sit down and read a book, how to be a person essentially, how to _live_.

There’s one thing he can’t seem to get the hang of though: how to listen to music. It all seems too loud, too foreign, too _much_ in general for someone who doesn’t handle _a lot_ well anymore. He prefers the quiet stuff that itches at his brain with familiarity, that seems to mean something to his heart that his brain doesn’t quite understand. Bucky prefers to listen to music from his own time period. Which he thinks is just fine if everyone else didn’t act so damn offended when he tells them he has no interest in learning about new music, or even what they now considered ‘old’ music.

He’s just fine without all the rapping and shouting and loudness and whatever else people considered music these days.

So, instead of listening to something new he spends his time reacquainting himself with the music from his own time period. That’s where he finds himself now, sitting in the common room and avoiding the rest of the team who are participating in Steve’s ‘mandatory’ group training session. Headphones in his ears, blissfully alone he lets himself relax.

Bucky is alone for about three minutes when Y/N walks in, headphones in her own ears. She smiles and waves at him before plopping down on the couch a few feet away. He only gives a small wave and half-smile before looking back down at the device in his lap, an iPod Steve called it, as he tries to ignore the way his heart pounds and his palms sweat of having her so close to him. Y/N has been with the team only slightly longer than Bucky albeit as a tactical consultant. Every day since he’d met her he’s thanked God that she doesn’t go out in the field. Thanked God for that and for her bright smiles and gentle words, her soft eyes and unrelenting kindness to everyone on the team, but especially to him. He’s only had a small crush on her since he met her. At least he tells himself it’s a small crush.

Really though her eyes are his favorite color and her voice his favorite sound, her touch something that never failed to spark happiness in his chest.

But it’s so hard for him not to like her when she had gone to so much trouble to befriend him and make him feel welcome and feel like a part of the team. Even when others had shied away she had been there smiling and laughing and talking even if he didn’t reply much. Bright and optimistic and just pure sunshine in an otherwise bleak world, bleak job, bleak existence.

A poke in his shoulder gets his attention as he glances up from his hands one of which has been white-knuckling the blanket settled over his folded legs, desperately trying not to focus too hard on her presence and make a fool of himself. She giggles when he jumps before shaking her phone at him. He frowns at her, not understanding what she wants. Y/N only rolls her eyes and scoots closer until their thighs are pressed together, she taps the buds in her ears and then shows him her screen before pointing to his iPod.

Fumbling the device slightly in his haste to show her what he’s listening to makes her laugh again, her mouth opening in a silent giggle. Once the screen is illuminated he turns it toward her. She squints and then smiles before giving a thumbs up and turning her own toward him. _Led Zeppelin_ , the screen reads. Bucky can only shrug, never having listened to them.

She pulls out her headphones and Bucky reluctantly takes off his own, sure he’s about to be lectured again about assimilating with modern culture. “Haven’t listened to them before?” she asks, voice a sweet, soft lilt as always. He has to stop himself from closing his eyes in pleasure as her voice washes over him.

 “No,” he answers, his own voice rough and hard compared to hers.

Y/N shakes her headphones at him, “Would you like to?”

Eying the dangling chords warily as he shakes his head, “I, uh, don’t like most of the modern stuff. It’s…it’s a lot usually.”

She nods, “I get that. A lot of it can be.” She pauses and observes him for a moment, Bucky fidgeting under her scrutiny. “What are you listening to? I’ve never heard of that song before.”

He can’t ever figure out why she’s kind to him, more so than the rest of the team. No one ever asks about what he _likes_ to listen to, just tells him what he _should_ be listening to. Just like no one ever sat down to play video games with him because he’s still so bad at it. Or just like how everyone rolled their eyes at his confusion over Tony’s complicated controls on the oven. But Y/N never lost patience with him, seemed to even enjoy doing things with him that he's still mostly shit at.

“I, its, uh-,” he snaps his mouth shut before he can trip over words more, his entire being aware of the way her kind eyes are focused solely on him, as though he’s the only thing in the world that matters to her. Instead of speaking he hands the iPod to her and pushes his headphones over her ears. She smiles and presses play.

Y/N closes her eyes and leans back into the couch as she listens, starting to hum along halfway through. And Bucky, well, he’s mesmerized, by her lips, soft and pillow-y looking, and the way her eye lashes lie against her cheeks, and her long fingers tapping along to the music, by her smooth skin and-

His entire body must flush red as his eyes travel back up to her face, realizing that he’s been caught staring. Y/N blushes then too and pulls off the headphones, “It’s good. I like it. And you’re right, it’s a lot softer than a lot of the music now-a-days.” She frowns and glances down, “But I also think you might be listening to the wrong sorta modern music.”

“What do you mean doll?” He asks, the pet name slipping out before he can stop himself. But she only blushes and tries to hide a smile in response.

“Well Buck,” she starts, flushing a deeper shade of red, “I think whoever tried to introduce you to modern music showed you the scary stuff.” She smiles brightly at him suddenly, Bucky’s heart stuttering in his chest at the full intensity of it being focused on him. “I have an idea!”

And really he can’t much help the way he smiles at her enthusiasm, “Yeah?”

“Yeah! So here it is. You make a playlist-,” she stops, “You know what a playlist is?”

“Yes, doll,” he chuckles.

She rolls her eyes and pinches his arm, “Okay, yeah, sorry. Anyways, you make a playlist of all the essentials of your time. And I’ll make a playlist for you of some music I think you might like and then we’ll have a listening party.”

“Listening party?” he asks warily. Bucky is all for spending time with the excited girl but _party_ -

Y/N pats his knee, making Bucky jump again, his body suddenly on fire, “Just you and me.” She smiles wide at him again, “Deal?”

“Sure thing,” Bucky answers, his voice higher than usual. Not only time with his girl but _alone_ time with his girl-

“One week!” she interrupts his inner turmoil at having thought of her as _his_. “My room! I’ll provide snacks and if you hate all my music you have my permission to revoke our friendship.”

His heart jumps again, “I would never-,”

She bounces up from the couch, “That’s good ‘cause I like you a whole lot and it would probably break my heart.” Before he can say anything she’s gathered up her stuff and strutted out of the living room shouting, “One week, Barnes!”

 

~

 

One week later Bucky has carefully put together his playlist, everything he considered the best ready to go. He knocks on Y/N’s door at exactly 7PM just as she’d asked when Sam walks by making kissing faces at the ex-assassin. His teasing has been relentless this week, informing Bucky that what was happening is a date, because they would be _alone_ , and doing something apparently _intimate_ , and Y/N usually _always_ asks the rest of the team.

So now he stands at her door in sweatpants and a t-shirt, completely strung out that he might be on a date with the girl he desperately likes and is completely unprepared for it. Bucky is about to turn on his heal and text Y/N from the safety of his room that he wasn’t feeling too well and would therefore be unable to attend their listening party when the door opens. “Buck!”

“Hi, Y/N.” His voice sounds like he has gravel stuck in the back of his throat which only serves to make him more self-conscious. He reaches up and tugs at his sleeve, regretting wearing short sleeves suddenly even though he knows Y/N doesn’t mind his metal arm in the least, in fact never paid much attention to it at all.

She frowns, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I, uh, yeah.” He gives her a tight smile.

Y/N seems to deflate a little, staring at the ground as a blush coats her cheeks, “You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna. I know I didn’t really ask so much as commanded.”

“No!” She glances up, eyes wide at his outburst, “I, no, I want to be here.”

She chuckles, “Alright, c’mon in then.”

Bucky stands in the middle of her room as she climbs up on her bed and pats the space next to her, pulling a large bowl of popcorn into her lap, “Something to drink for you right there.” Y/N points to the nightstand where a mug of his favorite tea is steaming. Carefully he climbs into bed next to her, settling down easily. This is easy, familiar, as they often watched movies or read together in her room.

She wiggles closer to him, playfully bumping their shoulders together, before grabbing her laptop and setting it on his lap. “I got this thing,” she says, holding up a black, two-pronged wire, “from Tony and we can plug it in here and then into both pairs of headphones so we can both listen at the same time.

He plugs in the wire like she instructs before asking, “Why don’t we just listen out loud?” Bucky had hoped to have a conversation with her where he didn’t embarrass himself completely, watching as she pulls up their respective playlists, Bucky having sent his to her earlier in the day.

“I have Pink Floyd on my playlist and you have to have the full, enclosed experience to truly appreciate their songs.” She pauses and smiles at him, “At least that’s what my dad always told me.”

Plucking up her headphones she settles back against the headboard and presses play as Bucky fits his own over his ears.

For the next several hours they work through both their playlists, Y/N not so subtly moving closer to him throughout, going so far to even lean her head on his shoulder. He relaxes easily enough against her, their fingers occasionally brushing together as they reach for things at the same time. Bucky misses Y/N’s blush every time it happens, happiness sparking in her heart.

They pause after every song and talk about it, Y/N keeping a list of the ones Bucky liked best as well as her own favorites. Bucky is surprised at how many of the songs he genuinely likes, Y/N’s effort to find songs he would truly like shining through.

Eventually though, they run out of tea and popcorn and songs. “What did you think? Overall?” She asks when the last song has finished, ripping her headphones out in her excitement.

“They’re all really long songs.”

Her shoulders slump and Bucky could kick himself. “Oh, uh, sorry I kept you so long. They tend to-,” She starts, rubbing the back of her neck. Maybe she had been too obvious in her quest to spend more time with him and he was calling her on it.

“But I liked them. Really, truly I did. And I like being here,” Bucky assures her quickly.

“Favorite?” She queries, squirming in place, suddenly excited again.

“Kashmir. By uh…”

“By Led Zeppelin? Really?” Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “Well, I liked your music too, old man. The Andrews Sisters were my favorite.”

He hums and smiles gently, “I thought they might be.”

She lays her head back on his shoulder then before closing her eyes. Painfully aware that his whole body is stiff against hers, he struggles to relax again and find something to say, afraid the silence might become awkward, “Thank you for doing this. People don’t usually take the time to listen to what I like or…put in so much effort to try and find something I might like.” All the songs she had shown his had been rock songs but all of them also managed to be soft.

“Glad you liked it,” she says, snuggling against him. “You just gotta find the right band and the right song and then you’re golden.”

Her nearness is suddenly excruciating. They’ve sat like this before, in fact could be found touching more often than not but this time it feels different as Sam taunting him about being on a date runs through his mind _again and again and again_. The whole right side of his body is seemingly on fire from her touch, when he blurts out, “Is this a date?”

She jerks away from him and stares wide-eyed, “Uh, no, I mean I didn’t mean it to be-,” His heart drops out of his chest and shatters in his stomach.

“Sam just said-,” he shakes his head and attempts to get up, “Sorry, doll, I didn’t mean to ruin the night-,” How fucking stupid and hopeful did he have to be to believe something Sam said?

Y/N shakes her head and grabs his arm to pull him back, “You didn’t ruin anything.” She pauses, looking down, “Did you, did you want it to be?”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” he says carefully. “I like you a lot Y/N.” He shakes his head, figuring he should just go all in even as his heart attempts to beat out of his chest, “No, that’s not true. I like you a lot more than just _a lot_ and…none of this is coming out right. What I’m trying to say is if it was a date I would have been ecstatic.”

A grin slowly overtakes her face, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Really. How could I not?”

She giggles then and gently takes his face between her hands, thumbing over his cheekbones, “Why?”

“Are you kidding, doll?” He asks exasperatedly, trying not to grin. “You’re kind and you trust me and take time from your day to be with me and look for songs for me. And…you never push me to be anybody. You don’t tell me to just get over it and get with the times. You just let me _be_ and that is such a gift. You’re safe. You make me feel safe. You make me feel like a person.” Bucky clamps his mouth shut before he truly starts gushing and makes a fool of himself.

Y/N smiles even larger and carefully presses her mouth to his. Her lips are even softer than he imagined them to be, their fullness highlighted by the way she smiles into the kiss. Even though it’s chaste and lasts only seconds his head is swimming, every part of him aware of every part of her and the way she makes him feel.

Bucky’s heart is soaring in his chest when she pulls back and whispers, “Ditto.” Y/N’s fingers continue ghosting over his cheeks as she stares into his eyes. “And I mean it.”

He bursts out in laughter and then, still chuckling, pulls her back for another kiss.


End file.
